"You look wonderful." Lucy was still standing on my porch dressed in a light flowing dress that did her no justice, but still she looked stunning. "Ar... you going to invite me in, I know you're alone," she said.My wife left for work fifteen minutes earlier. Lucy followed me into my kitchen and closed the door. She said, "I know you watch me every Saturday when I change and bathe, so last night as I was alone I decided to put on a bit of a show. Did you enjoy it?"I had to admit I did and blushed. From the comments, I was more than just acceptable. It was a while before any of them had the courage to actually touch me. Even then, it was all tentative, and not touching the areas covered by the bikini.Finally, somebody said, "It is kind of like Christmas. We have a present that needs unwrapping before we can play with it." Murmurs of assent and the ribbon-ties were pulled loose, the tiny bikini top being slid from me. Then they found the clips at the sides of the briefs, and they were. She came out of the bathroom with petticoat covering breasts with towel, and asked me to dry her hair. I dried her hair with towel, combed her hair. She wore a pointed bra, asked me to fasten the hooks, and then blouse. Sitting in front of dressing table, in petticoat and blouse, she applied satinglow cream and powder to her face and neck, kajal to her eyes, and sindoor (gundrati tilakam bottu) on her forehead. She wore a thin cream colored chiffon saree with pink border, three inches below her. I dropped my head, bit my lip and nodded, all I wondered is if my mother would ever forgive me for tonight. I wished I was just late, I wished I did not go into the front room after hearing anything and just went downstairs to paw off and sleep. She cleared her throat, after a moment she raised my head to eye level again, now she had a smile, almost a dreamy smile. She looked me over for a moment, orientating on my crotch, though I knew my hard-on was receding I knew it was still over.
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